


Comestion

by pressedinthepages



Series: Brontide [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedinthepages/pseuds/pressedinthepages
Summary: After the events of Brontide, Jaskier and Reader expand their relationship to include one emotionally constipated Witcher.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Series: Brontide [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764607
Comments: 2
Kudos: 172





	Comestion

**Author's Note:**

> Request by @what_about_the_fish  
> “but imagine them both singing together and then the whole inn just disappears and they are singing to Geralt but he's an idiot who has no idea so one night while Jaskier is taking her apart they hatch a plan on how to bring Geralt into their bed and well it happens out in a camp somewhere in the woods and it starts with her getting a splinter or something stupid and Jaskier sucking her finger into his mouth and then well you can see where this is going...” ... ah yes i can absolutely see where this is going ;)

You’re not sure how exactly, but you managed to find yourself standing atop a rickety table in the middle of the tavern, wildly swinging your empty tankard as you sang (really just yelled out of tune) and dancing along to Jaskier’s song. Your hips were swaying dangerously, your body rolling and weaving through the air as naturally as breathing. You weren’t even drunk, the tankard had been filled with water, but somehow the bard had turned you into a raging ball of fire fueled with something more than any alcohol could provide. The people in the tavern were rowdy, generous with their coin as Jaskier played. He was singing one of his newer songs, and the crowd loved it. It was about a mysterious succubus (even he admitted, it was a bit cheesy) who had drawn him in, only for her to fall into his arms and kiss him like the break of dawn. Jaskier had been working on it for months, having started the morning after your first night together. His little journal had countless pages of scribbles about you, one even being filled with ways to describe the color of your eyes. He was relentless in his quest to fold you into the pages of his music, never fully content, damn perfectionist.

Ever the entertainer, Jaskier launched into another song, the quiet introduction a chance for you to gather your surroundings. Your eyes flitted and bounced around the room, never settling on any one thing for longer than a heartbeat. But then, a pair of eyes as golden as the sun grips you from the corner of the room, and you can’t help holding your gaze. Geralt looks as though he’s been violently slapped across the face with a fish, mouth agape and eyes wide, a slight flush settling on the crests of his cheeks. But, that only lasts a moment, his expression turning darker,  _ hungrier. _ His eyes dilate and his hands grip his own cup with enough force to warp the metal. In a moment of shameless confidence, you throw a wink his way and resume your dance, perhaps being a bit more purposeful with your movements. You notice him discreetly shift, crossing his legs, seemingly unable to get comfortable. 

Your attention shifting back to Jaskier, you noticed him watching you, absolutely having recognized your little interaction with Geralt. You briefly worried that he’d be livid, the woman he’d been pledging his entire life to for months now so blatantly flirting with his best friend, but he only took on a hungry expression of his own, fingers curling around his lute just a  _ little  _ bit tighter. You both shared a singular thought,  _ we HAVE to get Geralt in our bed.  _ Thinking quickly, Jaskier began a song that he’d written years ago. It was...filthy, very blatantly describing a threesome that the young bard had engaged in. Apparently, he had been wandering through what he thought was an empty wing of a court he’d entertained when he almost literally stumbled over a couple that was  _ very passionately  _ fucking in front of the fireplace. Instead of screaming and throwing shoes at him, they generously invited him to join the festivities, which he dutifully accepted. As he sang of this great occasion in his life, you spun and swung and swayed around, still atop the table, almost kicking drinks and Gwent cards around the room.

The final note resonated around the room, bouncing from candle to window to stray glass shards on the floor, your eyes met Jaskier’s and you felt time slow and swirl, your skirts brushing along the surface of the table before coming to a stop. His eyes always left you breathless, but even more so now, the clear blue filled with so much heat and desire that you were worried that you may just melt between the grains of wood before settling on the floor. The room stopped spinning, the cheers and rumbling returning to your ears, but you still found yourself lost in the love for your bard. 

...

As the night came to a close, you bounded up to the room you three were sharing for the night, Jaskier staying behind briefly to collect his coin from the barkeep. As your hand reached the handle, the door was suddenly yanked open, Geralt on the other side. You startled, almost punching him as your adrenaline spiked. Once you realized that it was not actually a monster lying in wait to sink his teeth into your skin and devour you whole, you relaxed, gently placing a hand on his chest and pushing into the room. You noticed that he still had his boots on, as well as his swords. 

“Are you going somewhere?” you asked, disappointed. 

“Hmmm…” Geralt rumbled, the grit of his voice going straight to your core. He let out a breath and flexed his hands at his sides, visibly straining against  _ something.  _ “I’m going to find a brothel.”

He swiftly turned, brushing past Jaskier on his way out. Jaskier strode into the room, noting your frustrated expression following Geralt. “What’s going on?” He toed the door shut and shrugged off his doublet, drawing your eyes to the top of his shirt where you could catch a glimpse of skin dusted with hair and his eyes glinting with unclaimed desire. 

All thoughts of Geralt flew out of the window as your earlier flame of wanting was rekindled and you dashed across the room, moaning into his mouth as you moved your hands to the buttons of his trousers.

…

Your breath hitched, the burn of his cock inside of you crackling through the haze of your pleasure. Jaskier is insatiable, making you reach your peak twice already before he  _ really  _ started fucking into you. You only barely brushed the edges of reality, the drag of his cock like fire against the velvet of your cunt bringing you back to the blissful existence of being his.

His body pressed against yours, holding you beneath him as he speared you deeply with every thrust. His head rested against your neck, and you could hear every little breathy noise that fell from his lips as he chased his pleasure. Suddenly, he slowed and pulled back to rest on his knees, pulling a shallow whine from you as he ran his hands along the valleys and mountains of your body beneath him.

Huskily, Jaskier chuckled. “I just had a brilliant idea.”

“Well, I sure hope it involves getting back to what we were just doing,” you huffed, not pleased with being denied another crest of pleasure. 

He smirked down at you and slid his hands down your body to settle behind your knees, pulling them up to rest on his shoulders. He resumed his movements, slower but no less enjoyable. Your body relaxed under his touch and he moved his hands to grasp your hips. You reached down, threading your fingers together as you begin to lose yourself once more. 

“Ah, ah, ah...not yet. Don’t you want to hear my brilliant idea?” Jaskier scolded, forcing you to abandon your quest for the moment. You could still feel his cock inside of you, his hips rolling slightly to keep your attention. 

“Fine, fine, what is it?” you gasped, wanting him to just spit it out instead of making it a dramatic display. You loved him, but  _ gods  _ he picked the worst times to come up with ideas.

Jaskier leaned down as far as he could, forcing your hips further apart as you folded with him. You moan, something low and dark with smoke. He suddenly resumes his breathtaking pace, pulling you to the edge of your high once more, your cunt clenching and dripping around him. 

“I think...we should...extend an...invitation, of sorts...to our dear Witcher...to join us one evening…” He grates out between thrusts, his voice betraying just how close to the edge he is as well and his fingers deftly circling your clit. At his words, you finally fall, plummeting through ecstasy like a shooting star in a clear sky. All of your muscles tighten, one of your hands flying to your core to meet Jaskier’s and keep him there. As the stars began to settle back into the night and your breath returns, you hear Jaskier moan your name as he swells and throbs inside of you with his spend. 

You both lay still for a moment before Jaskier gingerly removed himself and set your legs back on the bed. He hummed, snaking his finger to your core and swiping along your folds, collecting some of the mixture of his spend and your own slick, the sickly sweet evidence of your arousal. You rise to meet him and take his fingers in your mouth, cleaning them and reveling in the taste. Releasing them with a  _ pop  _ that echoes around the room, you fell back to the pillows, Jaskier settling next to you soon after. 

He turns, pulling you to snuggle against his side and wrapping his arms around your waist. Your head resting on his chest, you shifted to look at him, the coarse hairs tickling your cheek.

With as sweet of a smile you could muster, you whisper, “I quite like your idea.”

Jaskier laughs, the sound shining through your skin like sunshine through the clouds. He pulls you up for a gentle kiss before you both settle back, his heartbeat lulling you to deep, dreamless sleep.

…

Over the next few weeks, both you and Jaskier had been diligent, attempting to attract Geralt’s attentions. It’s lucky he was good looking, because  _ gods, he was oblivious.  _ You’d tried several different approaches, none of which really worked. You tried wearing lower cut blouses, Jaskier opening even more of his already undone shirts, but Geralt never seemed to give either of you a second glance. Jaskier had been writing a new song about a mystical being with white hair who made him “hot in the loins,” and even you had to agree with Geralt that maybe he should think of another way to phrase that. You’d even stooped so low to dancing around the fire together, swaying and falling over each other and moving just as you were the night at the tavern. As you caught his eyes again, Geralt was watching the both of you with that same intense, hungry look and you knew that you were on the right track, you just needed to keep trying.

You’d almost lost all hope, settling on a log beside the fire a few nights later. It’d been days since you’d last ridden through a town, and you were exhausted. You relaxed, stretching your arms onto the log as the warmth from the fire embraced you. The forest was quiet, the sky pitch black above, the crackling of the fire the only thing breaking the silence. It only lasted for a moment though, as Jaskier plopped down beside you and you adjusted how you were sitting, pulling your hand from where it had been resting on the wood. Your finger just barely grazed the surface, and a sharp pain shot up through your hand.

“Ah, fuck!” you exclaimed, startling both Geralt and Jaskier and probably some birds a few miles away. Geralt jumped up and grabbed his sword from where it was concealed behind him. However, as he noticed the faint smell of blood and figured out what had happened, he calmed, sitting back on his own log at the side of the fire.

“Got a splinter, love?” Jaskier asked, already pulling out the small dagger he kept at his side. 

You nodded. “Don’t worry about it, it just shocked me a bit.” You shook your head. You’ve faced countless monsters and survived several close encounters with death, and yet a splinter can cause you to yelp like a helpless puppy?

Jaskier took your hand, holding it up so that the light from the fire danced across your fingertips. He was perfectly focused, the blade in his hand glinting as he held it at your finger. You felt the flat of the blade press on your finger as Jaskier set his thumb at the sharper end and tugged, an instant feeling of relief settling over you. 

“There, got it!” Jaskier was grinning triumphantly, as if he had defeated a great stone giant rather than a tiny sliver of wood. He set his dagger back behind him, still holding your hand by his face. A tiny drop of blood had formed on your fingertip, and Jaskier’s smile turned into something mischievous, his eyebrow quirking. 

He gently brought your finger to his mouth, giving it a chaste kiss before sliding his tongue along the whole length of your finger. You let out a shaky breath as he put the tip of your finger into his mouth and  _ sucked,  _ heat spreading through your core and slipping over your skin. You saw where he was going with this, so you took another finger and prodded at his lips, requesting entrance. Jaskier was happy to oblige, eyes fluttering shut and moaning softly as he began working your fingers as you have worked his cock countless times before. 

As Jaskier continued his “medical aid,” you glanced over to Geralt. He was sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped in the space between. His pupils were shot, just a tiny ring of gold alluding to the rich beauty of them. His eyes were trailing up and down your bodies, and you saw him shift, the movement of the fire betraying every move he made. His gaze moved up to yours and he let out an audible breath full of frustration and wanting. At this, you threw your head back and moaned, unable to contain the sounds pulled from your arousal.

Suddenly, Geralt stood, and you could see from the sizable bulge in his trousers that he was quite interested in Jaskier’s healing abilities. But he quickly turned and strode to Roach, barking, “I’m going to find a brothel.”

You rolled your eyes and Jaskier released your fingers with a wet sound, causing your walls to flutter. “Oh, no no no no no…” he stood, and you got an eyeful of just how aroused  _ he  _ was as well, feeling more than a bit flattered. “You wouldn’t make it to the closest town by daybreak, and you know that you wouldn’t leave us out here all alone!” Jaskier practically tripped over his own feet crossing to Geralt, but he was determined. He grabbed Geralt’s shoulder and spun him around so he was facing both you and Jaskier once more. 

Geralt opened his mouth to argue, but you spoke first, “Besides, you could just join us tonight.” You rose, skirts swirling around your legs and kissing the tops of your bare feet as you approached the two men. Geralt looked like a fish out of water, looking back and forth between you and Jaskier, neither of you saying anything more. 

“Well, I really do not wish to intrude…” he mumbled, eyes flitting to the ground, and you could tell that he really did wish to intrude. You gently placed a finger under his chin and pulled his gaze back to you, and you saw his chest rise as he breathed in your scent. 

“You wouldn’t be intruding, dove, we’re inviting you.” You tried to put every bit of honesty and desire in your eyes and were not disappointed when you saw the walls Geralt has built around himself start to crack and crumble. 

Jaskier stepped behind you, hand snaking around your waist and the hard line of his cock pressing against your ass. He rested his head on your shoulder, and you just knew that he was giving Geralt  _ that look,  _ his big, sad, blue eyes and just the slightest pout on his lips that no one in their right mind could ever refuse.

“You’re sure?” Geralt whispered, voice grating like rocks tumbling through a stream. Jaskier only nodded, turning his face to place a kiss to your neck. His free hand ghosted up your back and threaded his fingers through your hair. He tugged, exposing more of your neck as he started to suckle a new mark right above your shoulder. 

You reached out, finding Geralt’s hand. Your fingers found his and squeezed, more of a movement of love than lust. He stepped towards you, closing the distance but still staying far enough away so you could still change your mind. However, you had no intention of doing that, so you brought his hand to your breast, the both of you sighing into the touch. You held him there for a heartbeat before bringing your other hand to his cheek, rubbing your thumb over the sharp edge of his jaw before pulling him down to meet your lips. 

He kissed you as though he were drowning and you were a breath of fresh air, desperate and needy. His one hand stayed on your breast, kneading at the soft skin just beneath the fabric. His other hand fell to your waist where Jaskier’s hand was and settled atop it, pulling a sweet groan from behind you. Your hands wound through his hair, trying to pull him even closer to you. 

You pulled back, dizzy from the swirling fire up your spine and the lack of air. You slid out of both of the men’s arms, your chest heaving and spilling from the top of your bodice. 

“Let me get the bedrolls set up.” You smile before turning, laying the three beds out together so they just formed one big one. You hear Jaskier whisper something in Geralt’s ear, causing him to growl, and then Jaskier gasps. You peek over your shoulder to see Jaskier swept up in Geralt’s arms, their mouths tangled in a fiery dance. You watch them for a moment, biting your lip watching the two men you love together like this.

However, you soon become impatient, clearing your throat as you begin to undo the ties at the back of your bodice. You just barely roll your eyes,  _ why didn’t Jaskier just go ahead and take care of these while he was back there?  _ But the way the two men are looking at you is enough to quiet that line of thought, their faces hungry and their hands itching to touch, and your fingers struggle to loosen the ties. They both rush to your sides, Geralt now behind you with Jaskier in front. You feel Geralt’s fingers at the small of your back, the ties loosening as he moves. You tug Jaskier’s chemise from his trousers and over his head, being careful when you drop it so it doesn’t go flying into the fire. You’ve already had to replace one of them when you literally ripped it off of him, and he is a very picky man when it comes to his clothing. Geralt reaches the top of your shirt and places a gentle kiss to the skin right above it, sending a fresh wave of heat along your body. You let the shirt slide from your shoulders, the warmth from the fire calming the goosebumps along the newly exposed skin. 

Jaskier’s hands move to the ties at the side of your skirts, undoing the simple knot and pulling them and your smallclothes together, letting them pool on the ground. Geralt’s hands dance along the hem of your chemise, his calloused fingers rough against the softness of your hips. He lifts the shirt over your head, and your nipples peak with the sudden exposure. His hands move back to you, reaching around and carefully pinching the peaks of your breasts. Your head drops back, resting against the solid plane of his chest as you moan, grinding your hips back into the hardness at your spine. 

You lift your head back to resume your task, letting your hands run down Jaskier’s chest to the waist of his trousers. You undo the ties at the front, pausing for a moment to press your hand against his member and squeeze, granting a tumbling of nonsensical words from his mouth. You feel hands everywhere, and you’re not sure whose hands are doing what. They are running, dancing, squeezing, touching every bit of skin that they can find. You slip Jaskiers’s trousers and underclothes down together, placing a small kiss on his hipbone as you move. His cock is standing proud and flushed, a bead of precome dripping as it throbs under your gaze. 

“I’m afraid that you are terribly overdressed, my dear.” Jaskier slides around you as you rise, his hands landing on Geralt’s waist to palm him through his trousers before deftly slipping the buttons open. You turn and nestle your lips against Geralt’s jaw, scraping your teeth along his jaw. Your hands reach up to his chest and fumble with the small buttons, pulling and tugging at the fabric worn soft with years of use. He reaches up and pulls the shirt over his head, your mouth moving lick and suck and nip over his chest. Scars adorn the skin, stark brushstrokes of pain and cruelty. You know that he doesn’t like to talk about them, so you don’t bring special attention to them as you run your hands along the muscles that tense under your fingers. 

You feel Jaskier kneel, and you peek open an eye to look below you. Geralt is bare now, his cock aching and weeping, a thin stream of precome dripping towards the ground. Jaskier darts his tongue, catching it and bringing his mouth to Geralt’s cock, licking from base to tip. Geralt groans, low and dark and smoky, as he moves his hands. One of them threads into Jaskier’s chestnut hair, pushing it from his eyes as he takes Geralt’s cock in his mouth to the hilt. His other hand finds your cunt, warm and slick under his fingers. 

You lean into his touch, the heel of his hand providing a glimmer of relief that fades far too quickly. Geralt moans, thunder rumbling under his skin. You know just how talented Jaskier’s mouth is, so you can’t blame Geralt for losing himself for a moment. But you’re restless, soon rutting against his hand. The brush of your breasts along his arm brings Geralt back to you, his head turning and catching your lips in a bruising kiss, his teeth glancing against yours as he moves with you. His fingers shift, spreading you and slipping one into your core. Your back arches as he swallows your moans, his fingers sliding along your soaked cunt. He adds a second finger and pulls his head back to let you catch your breath. 

His eyes are dark, the fire casting streaks of gold and heat across them. It kisses along the scars on his face, dances up and down the sharp lines of his nose before dipping to his lips, mouth slightly agape in bliss. As Geralt adds a third finger and quickens his thrusts, you settle your hand in Jaskier’s hair, the thick locks silk around your fingers. You scratch lightly, flitting around Geralt’s hand that still clutches desperately to him. Jaskier starts focusing on just the tip of Geralt’s cock, sucking and licking as his hand moves up and down the rest of him.

Suddenly, Geralt pulls back, his cock falling from Jaskier’s lips. “Ah, wait, I..I don’t want this to end yet…” he gasps, his cock falling a bit under its own weight. You lean down, slipping your tongue into Jaskier’s mouth and tasting Geralt on his lips. You savor the taste, licking as much as you can as you pull Jaskier to the bedrolls. He stays kneeling and you settle on your knees, your back to him once more. 

“If you don’t mind, Geralt,” you say, looking up at the man towering over you, his silver hair starting to fall from the tie and flutter around his face. “I’ve gotten a little taste of you from Jaskier, and I would very much like to have some more.” 

You reach your hand to his and draw him down to kneel as well, directing him to sit facing you. Your eyes trail his body, roving up his hands to his broad shoulders, the swells of his chest to the meat of his thighs that you yearn to be buried beneath. His cock twitches under your gaze, another little bead of precome settling at the tip. You set your hands on his thighs, running them up and down, just feeling the strength that sits just under the skin. You dive forward and take him in your mouth, his member slick with saliva and his own arousal. You just barely let your tongue circle the tip, his hips jerking forward slightly. You grin before letting your mouth fall open and taking him as far as you can go, your hand moving to cover the rest at the base. Geralt growls, something ancient and enduring. He is warm and heavy in your mouth, and he gently runs his hands along your arms and down your back as you start to move your mouth along him. 

Jaskier grips your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin. He runs a finger along your slit, making you moan around Geralt’s length. You feel him throb in your mouth as Jaskier moves to press his cock to your core, coating himself in your slick. He shifts, aligning himself at your entrance. He strokes your hip with his thumb, a wash of sparks running in its wake.

“Ready, my love?” Jaskier asks, and you nod, pausing your movements so that he doesn’t push you further into Geralt than you can take. He takes you in one swift movement, all three of your moans a timeless symphony for the empty forest. 

He stills as you resume with Geralt in your mouth, pulling your cheeks in as you are filled from both ends. Every thrust that Jaskier makes sends you sparking along Geralt’s cock, his thighs shuddering beneath your hands as all of your climaxes rapidly approached. Weeks of wanting and waiting have led to this, and Geralt leans forward to catch Jaskier’s lips above you. It pushes both cocks impossibly deep, and as Jaskier’s hips snap against yours relentlessly, the wall of pleasure within your core shatters. Your back arches and you moan around Geralt’s cock and your cunt clenches Jaskier like a vice, squeezing and fluttering and pulling them both to their own climaxes. 

You feel Jaskier spill within you, his cock pressing against a spot that makes you see stars in your pleasure, and you can feel his spend start to drip down your thighs. Geralt makes a choked off noise above you, spending himself down your throat. Through the salty musk, you taste something sweet, it reminds you of blackberries but it’s darker than that. You swallow every bit, licking him through his climax and letting him go as his hands pulled you up to him. You feel Jaskier slip himself out of you, even more of his spend dripping from you in its wake.

You turn your head, allowing Jaskier the same privilege of tasting Geralt on your tongue, and he moans sweetly into your mouth at the taste. As you pull back, your chest heaving with every breath, you notice that Geralt is still hard and is staring at the both of you as if you were gods. You move forward, turning to lay on your back. Jaskier settles beside you, putting his arm underneath your head and placing a gentle kiss above your ear. 

“Geralt, please” you say, sounding much more desperate than you were going for. Geralt moved to kneel between your thighs, placing a burning kiss to the inside of your knee. He lines himself up and slowly inches into you. You hiss at the overstimulation, but you’re loose and wet from your previous climax so the burn is almost nonexistent. He leans over you, his nose brushing against yours and his medallion resting between your breasts as he starts to move.

He starts slow, but you meet his thrusts faster and faster, Jaskier sliding a hand to rub your clit in tight circles. Geralt shifts your hips and hits the bundle of nerves that rests deep within you, cursing as your legs lock around his hips. 

“Ah,” he says as you throw your head back and dig your nails into his shoulder, “there it is.” He sounds all too pleased with himself, but you can’t be bothered to make a witty remark in return. He moves harder and faster, hitting that spot over and over and  _ over,  _ and as you turn your head to meet Jaskier’s lips, you feel Geralt sink his teeth into the side of your neck and growl as he finds his next release inside of you. Each throb pushes further and further inside of you and you plummet into ecstasy once more, both of your climaxes prolonging each others’. You stutter out a stream of meaningless sounds, they could be curses, prayers, random kitchen ingredients, you’re not sure. All that matters are the stars under your eyes and the countless hands roving your skin. 

As you both come back down, Geralt slowly pulls back out of you and flops gracelessly onto the bedroll next to you. Jaskier turns, grabbing the skin of water and taking a sip before passing it around. The fire has burned to embers, the crackling once more the only sound in the darkness. You turn to Geralt, pulling him to lay on his side and rest against your chest. You place a kiss at the crown of his head as he wraps an arm around your waist, humming appreciatively as he feels Jaskier’s hand join his once more as the bard wraps himself around you from behind. Your legs are all tangled together, comfort and warmth and heartbeats and crackling embers lulling you to sleep, the darkness settling over you in her grasp.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading :) you can find me on tumblr @thefishmongersdaughterwrites


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